


She’s Mad, but She’s Magic

by ozsyn



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Demons, F/M, It’s Complicated, Prince of Hell Ramsay, Ramsay is a demon, Reader is a Demon, They’re kindof exes kindof still together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26763481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozsyn/pseuds/ozsyn
Summary: Without warning, the man suddenly springs forward and grasps onto her knees.“Please... please. Save me!” he pleads in supplication.“She couldn’t if she tried,” a voice comes from the surrounding darkness.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Reader
Kudos: 17





	She’s Mad, but She’s Magic

(Y/N) gazes out at the empty warehouse. It’s dark, desolate. 

The windows are boarded up and the roof looks on the verge of collapse. 

Debris litters the floor as a rat scurries by looking for a morsel. 

A summoning is a secluded thing and not often conducted in lavish mansions or outside on a sunny day, but a crumbling building wouldn’t have been her first choice. 

Still, humans are strange creatures. 

She crosses the threshold of the hastily-drawn pentagram and looks around for her client.

Humans always wanted the same thing: money, love, revenge. Power. 

Lesser beings always wanted power. Whether they miraculously come into a fortune or the other person up for the promotion has a tragic “accident.”

With power comes bloodlust. Not her own, of course. Humans slaughter each other day after day. It’s no concern to her.

If they can’t do it on their own, who better to assist than a demon?

Her kind thrives on the whims of man. A favor exchanged for a price. 

Selling your soul to the devil isn’t something to be done without forethought, however, so it may explain why her client is hiding from her. 

Nevertheless, a contract has been presented and her time is valuable.

“Hello?” she calls out to the surrounding darkness. 

Humans are as skittish as a newborn fawn. 

She can’t just start speaking Latin or emanating shadows. Not until they request it, at least.

Some are just looking for a show. 

Finally, as if shoved forward out of the blackness, a figure tentatively approaches her. 

She looks down at the human. 

He’s disheveled, caked in sweat, dirt, and blood. 

His own blood.

It’s not unheard of for a human to show their loyalty in the form of a tithe, but this is different.

The man is trembling, gaze unwavering on the ground in front of him. 

Something is wrong.

She appeals to him, “You have summoned me. I am yours to command. What would you have of me?” 

Silence. He remains unmoved. 

“I have been summoned. What do you command?”

His shaking has not ceased. He will not look at her. 

Without warning, the man suddenly springs forward and grasps onto her knees.

“Please... please. Save me!” he pleads in supplication.

“She couldn’t if she tried,” a voice comes from the darkness. 

She froze. 

She hadn’t heard that voice in ages, but it is impossible to mistake that sickly-sweet, husky tone. 

He finally steps out of the shadows as she turns to meet his gaze.

“My Starkling,” he says with a venomous grin, “Did you miss me?”

Gazing upon the Prince of Hell was not nearly as divine an experience as Ramsay Bolton would prefer it, but even she can’t help but be intimidated by his presence.

She drops to a knee and looks up in reverence, “My lord” echoes on her lips. 

“Your prince. Don’t get it twisted, Stark.”

“You prefer lord,” she counters through gritted teeth.

“There’s my girl,” he says with a smile. 

“I am not. What are you doing here?”

“Out for a stroll,” he answers nonchalantly.

“Who is this? What have you done to him?”

“I went through all this trouble to see you and all you care about is this insignificant human?”

“He is not insignificant.”

“You don’t even know who he is. I could have found him slicing up his dear old daughter or having his way with her...”

“You could have found him walking in the park.”

He shrugs, “What difference does it make?”

“What difference? You cannot torture humans as you see fit!”

“I can do whatever I want. Or have you forgotten?”

She turns to the man, quickly. “Do you want to leave? You summoned me and I will grant you one request. Do you want to be taken from here?”

“Yes....please,” he moans in pain.

“I don’t give you permission-“

With a flick of her wrist, the human is gone. 

They stand there in silence, tension thick in the surrounding air.

“Who in the hell do you think you are?” he snarls, advancing.

“Humanity are not your playthings!”

“Humans are whatever I want them to be and you just took one from me.”

“What are you going to do? Punish me in his place?”

That gives him pause as he thinks up a reply and that famous smirk returns, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She takes a deep breath, “Ramsay...”

“Aww. She missed me.”

“I’d hardly call it that.”

“You came.”

“I was summoned.”

“You don’t check your surroundings before crossing over? That can be dangerous, Stark. You never know what might be lurking in the shadows...”

“A royal prick who’s sexually attracted to knives?”

“And yet you never let me bring them into bed.”

Her eyes widen involuntarily, “Ram-“

“I’m kidding,” he chuckles before narrowing his eyes, “...mostly.”

“Just look at us, she-wolf,” he continues. “Back together again ready to cause mischief and mayhem upon the human world.”

“I have a job to do.”

“I’m your boss.”

“You’re really not. Why are you even here?”

“I’ve come for business. Doesn’t mean I can’t have a little bit of pleasure along the way...” he trails off with a glimmer in his eye. 

“Is that what you think you’re getting?”

“That or you’ll stab me,” he shrugs. 

She’s not immune to a smirk herself as she counters, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I probably deserved that.” 

“You deserve getting stabbed.”

“I’m pretty sure I can have you executed for threatening to kill the crown prince.”

“Getting stabbed once wouldn’t kill you.”

“How much have you thought about this?”

“More than I should. It comes with the territory.”

“Territory of being my favorite little demon?”

“Oh Ram,” she feigns a swoon, “I didn’t know you cared.”

“Starkling, against my better judgement, I could never stop caring.”

“Ramsay...” she sighs, wondering how this sadist can actually be endearing. “How long do you have?”

“Oh she-wolf, haven’t you been listening? I can do whatever I want for as long as I want.”

“And right now,” he continues, tilting her head upwards. 

“I can’t think of anything better,” his voice is a low growl in his throat, “than completely tearing. you. apart.”

She looks into his piercing gray eyes and finally asks what she’d been thinking ever since seeing him again. 

“What, in the seven hells, took you so long,  
_my lord?”_


End file.
